


OtherWhen: Epilogue

by flamethrower



Series: Re-Entry [14]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode I: The Phantom Menace
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/F, F/M, GFY, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-05-01
Updated: 2009-05-01
Packaged: 2017-10-23 12:46:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/250458
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flamethrower/pseuds/flamethrower
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One final moment in time:</p>
            </blockquote>





	OtherWhen: Epilogue

**Author's Note:**

> Title graphic by Obilupin.

Something was wrong, Obi-Wan knew.  He was starting to lose his grip on what was going on – he had a feeling that he was lucky to have made it this far.  But there was one last thing he had to show them.  It was imperative that they _knew_ that there was nothing between that last moment in the Force… and the next moment he had found himself in:

 

 

When I felt a sense of place again, I opened my eyes and realized I was staring up into quiet darkness.  Also, I felt fucking _awful._ My head ached.  I was sore all over.  Not horrible pain, thank the Force – nothing like the chronic pain I had once existed with for eighteen years.  I never, ever wanted to deal with something like that again.  

 

My eyes adjusted to darkness that was not all that dark, since there was a dim glow coming from my left.  I just couldn’t focus yet.  My eyes were only registering dim shapes with no resolution, and I kept blinking, trying to get them to work.  When shapes did solidify, I was struck by motion sickness.  Bugger that.  I let everything blur together again.

 

It was the first time in a while that I had felt physical discomfort, and I wondered what it was that I had done.  But then, I didn’t know where I was, either.  Had I skipped into some other layer without even realizing that it was happening?

 

As my senses gradually stopped yammering at me, I realized I was lying in a bed, wearing soft clothes, and my right hand hurt.  I held it up, concerned when I found a purple splotch of bruises, and noticed a track of dark running liquid.  …Was I _bleeding?_   I touched my hand and my fingertips came away wet and warm, colored with that same darkness.  _What the hell?!_

 

I don’t know how long it took before my eyes were willing to focus without encouragement, before that sense of being sea-tossed left me.  When I realized I felt better, I sat up and looked around.  Soft white walls, smooth white floor.  I was in a small room that was warm, and there was an air of comfort surrounding me.  I was covered in a blanket that I pushed aside, found a sheet near my feet that I must have kicked away in my sleep – which made no sense, because I hadn’t _been_ sleeping!

 

Enough of this.  I needed to know what the hell was going on, and that meant finding out where I was.  I swung my legs over the side of the bed, my feet touching the floor – warm, not cold, as I’d expected.  I stood up and then gasped out a curse as I promptly fell down.

 

I gritted my teeth, rubbing my knees.  On the floor was what had drawn blood on my hand.  I picked up the i.v. line with fingers that shook.  After a moment I tossed it aside, turning my face back to the bed.  I paused – the frame underneath was silver, even in the dim light.  Medical grade, meant to be fully adjustable.

 

In that moment I knew where I was, even though I still didn’t want to believe it.  This was the Healers’ Ward in the Temple.  I’d spent enough damned time here to recognize the place when I saw it.  I was _home,_ and that was baffling.  The entire time I had been watching Luke, I had stayed the hell away from Imperial Center, not wanting to see what twenty years of Imperial rule had done to Coruscant. 

 

In that moment, I could feel their presence in the Force – thousands of Jedi, thousands of bright, vibrant lights creating a background hum that had once been as familiar to me as my own skin.  I closed my eyes, hearing that long-lost background murmur of thousands of voices once more.  My heart picked up its pace.  I forced myself to breathe, to keep calm, but I couldn’t stop my hands from shaking.  I used the bed to pull myself back to my feet, this time supporting myself until my legs were willing to hold me.  Window.  Had to get to the window.  I had to see…

 

I stumbled over to it, throwing back the thick curtain that was keeping most of the light at bay.

 

My jaw must have been hanging open as I gazed about me in shock.  Outside the window was the Coruscant of my childhood.  I stared, taking in the buildings and traffic patterns that were still as familiar to me as the stars over Tatooine.  Millions of shining lights in the dark.  I lifted my left hand, disbelieving, and shuddered when my palm contacted the cool surface of the glass.  Real.  _Oh gods, REAL…_

 

“Obi-Wan?”

 

I whirled in place, and my breath caught in my chest.  Qui-Gon.  Oh Force, it was really him – and he was just as solid, just as real as I seemed to be.  Oh gods, oh gods, I didn’t know what to _do!_

 

Qui-Gon took a step forward, hesitant expression on his face.  I noticed Mace behind him, and that really threw me – what was going on?  Really, by all the stars, _what the fuck was this!?_

 

“Padawan, are you all right?”

 

I retreated, found the wall at my back and slid down it, dropping to my knees.  I shook my head and looked up at him, finding nothing but caring and concern in those warm blue eyes.  “I’m…” I hesitated, for my voice was softer, undamaged by long years of raging against the dark.  “I don’t know.  I’m trying to decide whether I’m in heaven or hell.”

 

Mace stepped up next to Qui-Gon, giving me a sharp look, speaking when Qui-Gon only stared at me in surprise.  “What’s the last thing you remember?”

 

“Being dead,” I said, and was confused when I heard Qui-Gon’s breath catch, accompanied by Mace’s sharp, wordless exclamation.

 

“Well…” Qui-Gon was saying, and he seemed to be as confused as I was.  “You’re not dead.”

 

“I’m not?”  I glanced out the window again, considering.  No, I had to admit, I didn’t feel dead.  That was hard to gauge, though, for I hadn’t felt that way even when I _was_ dead.  I clenched my hands into fists, thinking of moving between places… and received a massive headache for my effort. 

 

“Padawan Kenobi, do you remember your mission to Taro Tre?”

 

I glanced up at Mace in surprise, ignoring the sick feeling the swift motion left me with.  “Of course I remember Taro Tre.  Big ugly mess that we never should have been sent to in the first place. I took a slug to the head and spent a solid week... well, here," I said, waving my hand around at the room.  Gods, my head was killing me now.  Something had changed, something drastic, and I had a terrible feeling that all that had changed was _me._   “And why did you call me Padawan, it’s been…” I stopped talking, for they were both staring at me in stark amazement.

 

No. 

 

No, it couldn’t be…  I leapt to my feet, something unintelligible lodged in my throat.  There was a door in the corner that led to a ‘fresher.  _Mirror.  Mirror.  Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck, mirror NOW._  

 

I stumbled over the threshold and grabbed hold of the sink before I could fall.  Then I looked up, and this time my mouth was indeed hanging open as I caught sight of a face that I hadn’t seen, even in a holo, for almost thirty years.

 

Dark red hair, spiked and sleep-mussed.  My eyes were huge, full of shock and horror.  They were dark and green instead of the washed-out blue they had eventually settled into.  My skin was so much paler than I remembered, from long… long…  My hand trembling, I touched the still-healing scar on my forehead.  Taro Tre.  Slug to the head.  I had been sixteen.

 

I was sixteen right _now._ Without even thinking about it, my hand came up to brush the Padawan braid that had just grown long enough to touch my shoulder.

 

 _Well,_ I thought, some sort of manic giggle trying to form.  _This is different._   Then everything caught up with me, and my brain told me in no uncertain terms that enough was fucking _enough._   I took a step back and fell straight down into blackness…

 

…and with that, the Sharing broke apart.

 

 

 

Raallandirr groaned as she came back to herself.  Shaking her head, she sat up, her baffled mind trying to cope with the fact that she had just seen far more of her other Master’s life than she had ever, ever expected to. 

 

She was denied the chance to have any further thought upon the matter, for something was wrong.  The fur on Rillian’s neck was trying to stand up as she lurched to her feet, still half-blind, heading in the direction of the voice she heard.

 

“Damn you, don’t you do this to me now!” someone was yelling, and her sensitive ears recognized Healer Terza.  There was anguish in the Healer’s voice.  Then things fell into sharp focus, her Wookiee physiology kicking into high gear to help purge the aftereffects of such an intense Sharing. 

 

Her breath lodged in her throat, and she stumbled over to the bed, dimly aware that she was surrounded by Jedi who were not recovering nearly as fast as she was.  Terza was standing over Obi-Wan, swearing in a language that the Wookiee didn’t know.  Rillian could feel the Force, but it was off-kilter.  It felt like the echoes that Sia’me’s healing gift created in the Force - if he was too tired to use it.  [Healer!  What’s wrong?] she cried, and when Terza moved, Rillian was horrified by the sight of wide, staring eyes, slack features, and blue-tinged lips. 

 

Terza glanced at her, her eyes wide and panicked.  “Heart failure!  Rillian, I need you to wake the others -- I need help!” 

 

Rillian paused, and then the Force _shoved_ her, told her what needed to be done.  [There’s no time for that,] she rumbled, and grabbed Obi-Wan’s unresisting hand.  Something shifted, and Rillian was pulled under before she even understood what was happening.

 

 

When she was aware again, she was standing in a strange place.  Rillian glanced around, sniffing the air, and barked in distress when her nose told her that there was nothing _to_ smell. 

 

There was solid ground underneath her feet, but there didn’t seem to be anything to see.  Everything was just… gray.  A gray place.  Her mind flashed upon a memory from what she had just seen.  A gray place, an in-between place.  _Oh, Sith,_ she thought.  This was not a good place to find herself.

 

She turned around and found Master Obi-Wan standing a few steps away, but he wasn’t looking at her.  He was staring off into the distance, a pensive expression on his face.  [Master?] she called, hesitant, not even sure that he would be able to hear her.

 

That turned out to be a false concern, for he turned around the moment she spoke.  He frowned at Rillian as if puzzled.  “You… you’re not supposed to be here,” he said.

 

Rillian uttered a short laugh, not sure why that struck her as funny.  [Neither are you, Master.]

 

The puzzlement faded, and Obi-Wan looked around as if seeing where he was for the first time.  “Hmm.  I think you’re right.  Must’ve taken a wrong turn back there.”

 

[Is that what they call it?!]  When he grinned, she shook her head.  [This is weird, Master.  Can we go home now?]

 

He glanced back in the other direction again, and this time Rillian understood.  Thanks to Obi-Wan, she had felt what lay beyond this, and it was sweet and warm and welcoming.  But she wasn’t tempted – she had an entire lifetime to go, and the Force could wait.  [Please?] she whispered, thinking that he might need one further reminder.  [I’m not going back without you, and I think Master Qui-Gon would be upset if we didn’t return.]

 

Obi-Wan smiled, turning away from that distant place.  He walked forward, stopping in front of her.  Rillian looked up into blue-green eyes and her heart swelled; after all that she had seen, what had started out as respect had become fierce love for the man who was her second Master. 

 

“Given that I have just provided him with more than enough reason to be upset… yes.  Let’s go home,” he said, and took the hand that Rillian offered.

 

 

Awareness slammed into her with enough force to make her think she’d been back-handed by one of those stupid Destroyer droids.  Rillian blinked against bright light, fighting for focus once more.  When she found it, she was staring up into her other Master’s face, his blue eyes filled with worry.  “Are you all right, Padawan?” he asked, his voice soft and gentle.

 

Rillian was glad for the quiet words, for now that sound was registering, she discovered that her head was pounding.  [Please tell me it worked,] she begged.  If she had gone through that impromptu Force-kicking only to find that she’d come back alone…

 

Qui-Gon’s eyes closed, and she was at first horrified by the tears that fell.  “Yes, Rillian.  Yes, it did.”  He swallowed hard, leaning down to rest his forehead against hers.  She drew in a deep breath, taking in all of the scents that she had learned to associate with her Master, for they were all comforting, especially now.  “That was brave and reckless, and I will thank you for the rest of my life for calling him back,” he whispered, words and warm breath stirring her fur.

 

Rillian relaxed then, letting herself breathe with her Master, and slipped into peaceful sleep before she could speak again.


End file.
